


In Morning's Light

by Eruphadriel



Series: Cullen x Atheva x Triss [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Other, Rivalry, Threesome - F/M/Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eruphadriel/pseuds/Eruphadriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-'Dare Game' (an earlier fic of mine). Cullen wakes up after a night he swears was but a dream to find clear evidence that he is greatly mistaken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Morning's Light

**Author's Note:**

> Triss Trevelyan belongs to me, but Atheva Lavellan belongs to my friend dontknowcats -- Thank you again for letting me borrow her!

Wildfire licked over the plains of Ferelden and melted the snows of the Frostbacks. But not really. Cullen knew it was a dream, one he had only half-awoken from. The commander kicked off his sheets, which clung to his bare skin. A morning breeze rolled across him. But still, there was no relief from the heat. He felt it mostly on his chest, where something hot and smooth was pressed. Gentle, even movements grazed his side.

Cullen’s eyes snapped open. His unconsciousness fled, dreams giving way to reality as he glared down at the naked soldier with her head resting on his chest. Her hazel eyes fluttered open at his sharp gasp. Triss reached over to his right side, fingers searching the bed.

“Atheva?” she whispered with fatigue clouding her voice. “Ready for round... What round is it, again? Atheva?”

Triss raised herself up onto one elbow and glanced over Cullen. The space next to him was empty, the sheets crumpled.

“Huh,” she sighed, settling back against him. “She must have left earlier. Oh, well. That doesn’t mean  _we_  can’t have fun without her.”

Cullen’s fingers snaked through Triss’s short hair. He pulled her head back so that their eyes met. “What happened last night, I did for _Atheva_. Not for you.”

She cocked one eyebrow. “Is that why your hand stayed between my legs even after our Inquisitor fell asleep?” 

He pushed her aside. “Get off of me, private. It’s too bloody hot to... to...”

“You can say it, Commander.  _Cuddle_.” She gave him a loud, sloppy kiss on his cheek before untangling herself from him.

Cullen moved to sit on the edge of the bed. That’s when it hit him. He raked his fingers through his hair as his head throbbed from his brow to his temples to the back of his skull. With a groan, he let his head rest in his hands, elbows digging into his knees. He felt the bed shift, and a pair of warm lips on the back of his neck.

“Can I have today off, Ser?” she asked sweetly.

“What?” he spat.

Triss set her chin on his shoulder. “You can’t seriously expect me to do all those drills after a sleepless night, Commander. My body aches all over.” She nipped at his earlobe. “And it’s  _your_  fault.”

Cullen turned, grabbed her chin, and pulled her forward. “Elfroot and ginger tea. Tell Solas I sent you. I’ll see you in the courtyard.” He let her go.

Triss stayed still, silent. Then a wicked smile bloomed over her face. After a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and plucked her binding top from the floor. The picture of innocence. As she donned her clothes, she spoke in a soft, airy tone.

“Fine. You  _are_  my commander, and I  _am_  obligated to obey your orders. It’s what I signed up for, after all.”

“That’s right,” he confirmed, sliding into a pair of trousers.

“Here I go,” she continued sweetly as she wiggled into her smalls. “Out of my commander’s private quarters, in the clothes I arrived in the night before. I walk into the bright, sunny morning, Skyhold abuzz all around me. Whispers rising in my wake. Oh, what  _will_  they say when they see me – tousled and flushed, lips swollen and neck bruised and bitten – emerging from Commander Cullen’s tower?”

Cullen froze. His headache doubled at the cocky streak in her voice. When he peered over his shoulder at her, he found Triss wearing his coat. She buried her face into the plumage and hugged her arms around herself.

“Can I borrow this? Unless you would rather me wear your shirt instead.”

He scooped her shirt from the floor and threw it into her face. Reluctance and annoyance filled him up from his scalp to his soles.

“You have morning shift, and will help Master Dennet muck the stalls,” he said. “Tomorrow. I expect you out of here in an hour.”

Triss grinned. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him close, grazing her lips against his. “Thank you, Ser,” she cooed, and kissed him to seal her gratitude.

As she nibbled his bottom lip, Cullen thought about how clever the soldier was. How easily she manipulated everything around her to suit her whim. He hated the way her cheeky smirk made warmth pool inside him. But he couldn’t deny that it felt good. The commander was the one to break the kiss, resting his forehead upon hers.

“You’ve already run me ragged, Triss,” he panted. “Don’t make me late for war council, too.”

Triss flopped back into bed and giggled. Cullen cleared his throat.

“I’m going to need my coat back, private.”

“You’ll just have to fight me for it, Commander.”

Cullen was unsure what it was that made him close the space between them. He hoped it was the invitation to remind Triss exactly to whom she spoke so brashly. But somewhere inside him, Cullen knew it was the chance to get tangled up once more with her that drew him back into bed that morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated and encouraged.


End file.
